


Chills

by 35-leukothea (35_leukothea)



Category: No. 6 (Anime & Manga), No. 6 - All Media Types, No. 6 - Asano Atsuko
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Nezushi - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-26
Updated: 2015-03-26
Packaged: 2018-03-19 16:30:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3616614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/35_leukothea/pseuds/35-leukothea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Winters outside the walls are brutal, and this one is only just beginning.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Chills

**Author's Note:**

> read on tumblr [here](http://35-leukothea.tumblr.com/post/114634711367/the-first-cold-day-of-winter-hit-without-any).

The first cold day of winter hit without any notice.

It was still fall, really, nearing the end of November, but what with all the damage humans had wreaked on the environment over the past few decades, weather and climate fluctuated bizarrely, and without warning. Winter barely existed in some places anymore that used to have a solid three months of it, while typhoons and storms left areas that were usually lush and green and instead hit areas that had previously seen rain once a year. No. 6 and its surroundings had a more normal climate than plenty of other places, but it was still difficult to predict long-term. There was no real pattern to it, and thus, the people living outside the city walls were often quite unprepared. The first cold day of winter, extra cloth was purchased, goods were hoarded, shelter was fought over, and, as usual, crime upon crime was committed to survive.

The first cold night of winter, hundreds of people froze to death.

Shion, as a former elite and former citizen in general, was not used to being cold, in the same way that he was not used to being hungry or dehydrated or dirty. He was also, to some extent, extraordinarily incapable of understanding the huge scale of this problem or its implication, while at the same time being extraordinarily incapable of accepting how the residents of West District regarded it, as if it were commonplace, old news. Which, of course, it was. A writer or poet somewhere has probably called that a flaw of the foolish hero archetype. Which, of course, it is.

The morning of the first cold day of winter, Shion woke slightly chilled and thought nothing of it. He and Nezumi went out to the marketplace early that day, for no particular reason other than it was what was done. The sun shone too brightly, its light unobscured and bouncing off the light, cheap metal used to make most the buildings’ roofs, but its glare was bitter and dull. It seemed like the only reason it was shining at all was out of spite, to remind the tiny humans below of the warmth they were missing.

“This isn’t gonna be pleasant,” Nezumi remarked quietly as he shut the door behind him.

“Hm?” asked Shion, shoving his hands into his pockets—he’d already begun to shiver, and wanted to get walking. “I understand your passion for melodrama, Nezumi, but you don’t need the vagueness to go along with it.”

“Don’t joke,” Nezumi snapped, with only a minute hint of irony in his voice. “I was talking about the weather. Inukashi’s income is about to skyrocket.”

Shion frowned. “You think so? How bad does it get?”

He grinned savagely and tried to hide it under his scarf, but Shion saw. “Just be glad I’m not making you sleep with the dogs,” he said pitilessly, before starting off at a brisk pace and nearly leaving the other behind.

 

* * *

 

Needless to say, Shion suppressed a lot of what Nezumi would call “complaining” but was mostly just repetitive statements on that outing, telling himself firmly that if these people had to live their lives in this sort of cold, he could handle it for at least this one winter—that, and he was pretty sure it was only going to get worse. If he was going to complain, he would complain when it was worth something, which it never was. So he wasn’t going to complain. This, however, did not stop him from immediately jumping in front of the space heater as soon as they returned home.

“That is probably not going to help very much,” remarked Nezumi as he began boiling water, sounding supremely uninterested.

“Won’t it?” said Shion. “Oh, hello, Tsukiyo. Were you cold too?”

“Stop coddling the rodent.”

Shion sighed. “He just likes contradicting everything I do,” he told Tsukiyo matter-of-factly, who chittered at him in agreement.

“I can’t believe this,” Nezumi muttered. “My fugitive and my mice are ganging up on me. Do you want this hot water or what?”

Shion laughed internally at the phrase  _my fugitive_ but said quickly, “Yes, please.”

“Then you better be nice,” Nezumi snapped, then gave it to him anyway.

The afternoon went quite normally from there, other than the bone-deep cold that was beginning to seep through Shion’s entire body as the sun’s heat, however meager, gradually died away. He read and reread passages from various books until they had dinner, after which Nezumi announced he was going to “work.” When he had left, Shion read aloud to the mice, but it was starting to become difficult to turn the pages with his numb fingers. He closed the book before it was finished with a short apology, and the mice began to chatter amongst themselves. It was quite a calming sound, actually…Shion could never quite understand how some people were afraid of little animals like mice and squirrels…it really was very, very cold, wasn’t it—

“Shion!”

“Wha— _ow!_ ”

He had started awake (had he drifted off?) and hit the back of his head against the bookcase. “What the—? Nezumi?”

“What were you  _thinking_?” the black-haired boy hissed, slamming the door shut behind him. A rush of cold air swept through the room, and Shion shuddered. “If you’re going to sleep on the freezing floor, at least get a goddamn  _blanket_ or something, are you  _stupid_?”

“I—I didn’t realize—”

“Yeah, that much is obvious,” Nezumi interrupted. He was cross, but it was a concerned sort of cross, in an endearing yet terrifying way that only he could manage. “Jeez, maybe I  _should_  leave you with the dogs. Do you know how late it is? When were you planning on, I dunno, going to bed?”

Shion brushed off the other’s vitriolic tone. “Like I said, I didn’t realize. I lost—”

“—lost track of time, yeah, yeah. Well, go on, then.” He gestured towards the bed.

Shion blinked at him. “Huh?”

Nezumi stared. “Okay, now I really am worried the cold went to your brain or something. You’re sleeping with me for the winter. I’d honestly rather not pass up this opportunity for extra heat, and it’ll only get colder.”

“Right, right,” said Shion, standing up and shedding his coat. Nezumi did the same, but as usual, felt the need to be faster than Shion at everything ( _that’ll pay off when I introduce him to ice cream one day_ , he privately vowed) and was already lying under the blanket facing the wall when Shion climbed in. He was, somewhat strangely, completely unflustered. He was actually rather pleased with this turn of events. Hm.

“Do you really think we’d freeze if we slept alone?” Shion asked after he’d settled down, genuinely curious. “What about the space heater?”

Nezumi snorted. “That thing is surprisingly useless when the space is this big and there’s only one person in it.” Then he added, mostly out of spite, “It’s not the No. 6 quality you’re used to.”

Shion ignored this. “Then how did you survive here before without any other heat source?” he asked.

Nezumi shrugged. “I almost didn’t. I wasted a lot of water and a lot of energy to heat it, and I had to get up every couple hours overnight. Pretty excited to wake up and be able to feel all my digits, actually.”

“It’s the little things, huh.”

“Hey, look, he’s got a sense of humor after all.”

“If I wasn’t on the edge I’d kick you off.”

Nezumi laughed into the pillow. “I’d like to see you try.”

Shion considered retorting but decided it wasn’t worth it to further the argument—and besides, Nezumi’s mocking (at least towards him) always had a strange air of affection about it, similarly to his anger. The fact that he was taking the time to be mocking or angry at all was, in itself, a hidden gesture of fondness. With anyone else he simply would not have it in him to care. Shion would, of course, never point this out, because he knew he would only be met with resistance. It’d be funny, sure, but you can only get so much enjoyment out of embarrassing someone. Nezumi was not emotionally mature enough for that. He’d get all sullen and moody.

…it’d be cute, though.

Neither of them said anything else after that. They turned away from each other underneath the blanket despite the cold and pretended this arrangement was normal. It almost was, too—almost. It’d need some more time, but to Shion at least, it felt fine. Indeed, in his sleep he rolled over and pretty much put his face in Nezumi’s back, in response to which Nezumi turned onto his back so Shion could rest his head on his shoulder and curl into his side.

When Shion woke up, they were still in that position. He didn’t move, though, or wake the other. He was too comfortable.


End file.
